Mr. Lancaster, Your Wife Is Gone for Real This Time

"Dominic… I didn’t mean to… please, you have to believe me."

Inside the villa, Isabella Carter knelt on the cold marble floor, her face was paler than the porcelain vase on the table.

The lights were off. She couldn’t see the man’s expression on the sofa—only the faint glow of a cigarette between his fingers, until it finally burned out and disappeared into the darkness.

The silence felt like waiting for a death sentence, which made her more nervous.

She lowered her head and stared blankly at her hands. Blood still clung to her fingertips—Sophia Harrington’s blood. It had long since dried, but at this moment, it was the very proof of her crime.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before he finally rose. Dominic Lancaster’s tall, imposing figure slowly approached her.

"Isabella," his voice was chilling, each word slicing into her, "mistakes must be paid for. The doctor was able to keep Sophia’s leg, but she’ll never dance again. And you…  How could you still be able to walk away unscathed?"

His tone sent a shiver down her spine.

In the pale moonlight streaming through the windows, she vaguely saw him holding a golf club in his hand, weighing it lightly.

"I told you—be obedient, and I would marry you. But why did you have to mess up with Sophia, hmm?"

He barely finished his words when the club came crashing down on her shin.

"Ah—!"

He struck with full force. Pain seared through her body like a hundredfold.

"Dominic… I didn’t—"

The agony in her left leg was unbearable. Trembling, she tried to crawl backward, but her injured limb was just hanging stiff and lifeless.

Dominic tossed aside the bent golf club. He stared at her broken form. "This leg is the punishment you pay for Sophia. I’ll let you keep your life, Isabella. But remember—this debt is far from over."

She hugged herself tightly, shivering like a leaf in the wind.

Her vision blurred, darkness swallowing her consciousness. Just before fainting, she vaguely saw him pick up the phone.

"Tell the Carter family this—Isabella attempted murder. Either they protect her, or they protect Carter Corporation. Let them choose."

A faint smile tugged at Isabella’s lips. So tired… She wondered—if she simply died like this, would everyone finally be satisfied?

Two Years Later—

The first snow of winter fell over the City.

At dawn, the iron gates of the East District Detention Center slowly opened.

A skinny woman walked out. Her steps were slow, slightly uneven—her leg had never fully healed.

Snowflakes swirled in the air as she lifted her face. Despite the faint scars marring her skin, her features were still delicate and youthful.

In this weather, buses came rarely—one every two or three hours. The last bus just left 5 minutes before she left the jail. So now she has to wait another two hours. 

She pulled her thin chiffon blouse tighter around herself, Isabella frowned. The crescent-shaped scar at her brow furrowed with the motion.

When she entered this place, it was spring. Now, stepping out, it is winter.

Standing at the bus stop, she gazed blankly at the detention center behind her. On the wall, four bold characters read: “Reform Yourself, Start Anew.”

A laugh suddenly escaped from her lips.

She had stared at those words countless times in the past two years. But could someone who walked out of this place ever truly get the chance to start anew?

The cold bit into her, until the rumble of an approaching bus broke her thoughts.

She rubbed her aching leg, then climbed aboard.

Her only possessions were an outdated phone and a handful of coins the guard had pressed into her palm. She paid the fare and quietly took a seat at the back.

This was the only bus from downtown that came to the prison. Today, she was its sole passenger.

She pressed her forehead against the window, enjoying the sight of the city as though she could never see enough.

Two years— the city had changed beyond her recognition.